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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28782978">Armour</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/christinahosetti/pseuds/christinahosetti'>christinahosetti</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity (Video Game), The Legend of Zelda &amp; Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:27:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,178</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28782978</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/christinahosetti/pseuds/christinahosetti</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Are we friends?”</p><p>Mipha blinks at him. “What?”</p><p>“Are we friends, Mipha?” Revali’s tone is unusually patient. “I would consider us friends. I find your presence a great deal more tolerable than that of the rest of these halfwits, in any case.”</p><p>Mipha’s head has slowed its anxious spinning, but she still feels a small amount of trepidation at where he could possibly be going with this. “Is the bar for friendship really so low?”</p><p>-</p><p>In the shadow of the return of an age-old evil, Mipha and Revali find each other.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Daruk &amp; Link &amp; Mipha &amp; Revali &amp; Urbosa &amp; Zelda (Legend of Zelda), Mipha/Revali (Legend of Zelda)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>88</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. friends keep secrets</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <hr/><p> </p><p>Mipha wears her natural poise like armour. It keeps her safe; it is unbreakable. For the most part.</p><p>She is perched on the edge of one of the Domain’s many waterfalls when it happens, watching with mild interest as a group of soldiers below train. The other Champions of Hyrule - Urbosa, Daruk, Link, even Princess Zelda herself - are currently convening with her lordly father, Dorephan, talking through strategies should the Calamity decide to attack anytime soon. Mipha is here without being here, having already heard it a thousand times before. The Zora are well aware that they are not the most adept warriors, which is why the king is taking extra care now to ensure they have the best chance possible in the coming battle. The captains know first and foremost their duty is to the Domain; if they should die for it, so be it. Their forces are prepped - soldiers fitted with armour and weapons crafted from the finest silver the Lanayru mines have to offer. All that is left for them now is to sit and wait, like so many others, and hope that the Champions and their Divine Beasts are able to bear the brunt of whatever fury the Calamity should unleash.</p><p>Zelda, not one for sitting and waiting, nor one for plateaus or stalemates or ever being satisfied with anything, is chattering away to the king about the possibility of fitting the Zora soldiers with rubber armour instead of silver. You see, rubber is shock resistant, and silver is, well, quite the opposite, she is saying. Mipha has heard of rubber once before, briefly, when Muzu had mentioned it during one of their lessons. He had spoken of it as a material of ancient past, a past so long buried that even if they were able to come across any rubber now, it would be in such scarce quantities that the chance of it stretching between even half the Zora forces would be slim to none. Still, it is hard to dissuade the princess of Hyrule when she settles on an idea. Mipha has to admit that Zelda’s passion and desire for innovation is most admirable; yet, by Hylia, it would still be over her cold dead body that Mipha’s silver would be pried away from her.</p><p>Urbosa and Impa are watching Zelda in rapture, hanging on to her every word, as always. Revali, self-important as he is, is stood slightly apart from the rest of the group, as always. Except he’s not looking at Zelda. He’s looking at her.</p><p>Has he ever really looked at her before? The question is scrambling her brain all of a sudden. If he has, it’s never been with such a peculiar intensity, or for such a prolonged period of time. She squints in the sunlight back at him. It’s awfully bright today for the Domain, the city usually being shrouded in a thick layer of mist. Her eyes begin to burn, and she’s suddenly all too aware of the slick stone beneath her feet, and it becomes a struggle to keep her balance on terrain that is so familiar to her. It’s a strange feeling, unpleasant and uncomfortable on the surface. But there’s something else there too, despite everything else, a budding excitement in the pit of her stomach like a butterfly first unfurling its wings.</p><p>She expects him to turn back around, to continue pretending to listen to Zelda or glaring at Link, but what she expects to happen is not what happens. Instead, Revali smiles. It’s a long, slow smile that extends to the very corners of his beak. Not mocking, like most of the smiles he directs at his fellow Champions. Knowing. One that says <em>I know you think this is ridiculous, and I do too</em>.</p><p>That’s the moment she loses her footing.</p><p>Mipha doesn’t make mistakes often. She is calm, and measured, and always oh so careful. She knows exactly what simple clumsiness can cost people. That’s why in the first couple of seconds, she doesn’t even realise she’s falling. She’s still thinking of Revali and his smile and how bizarre the entire situation is. It’s only when she feels water shred through her fingers that she comes to her senses and flips her body upwards, stomach muscles clenching. The spray whips her face as she propels herself back up the waterfall, stinging like fire, but she pushes through it, kicking vigorously until she hits cold air and sees the group rush past her in a blur. Luminescent stone rapidly approaches as she makes her landing, her arms planted in front of her to steady herself. With preparation, it would have almost been a show.</p><p>She’s mercifully given a moment to catch her breath and revel in the feeling of having solid ground under her feet and all of her bones intact, before an impatient clicking of talons on stone forces her attention to the unamused Rito stood before her. She exhales deeply one last time before straightening up to meet his eyes. The smile is long gone from his face now, replaced by a burning scowl that makes even Daruk shift uneasily where he stands.</p><p>Mipha’s eyes dart between Revali and the group a few metres back. Even Link looks worried, which she would take some sort of perverse pleasure from if he wasn’t clutching onto Zelda’s arm like she might dive off the waterfall herself.</p><p>“I’m fine, before you ask,” she says quickly. It’s directed at him, but she makes sure to say it loud enough that everyone else can hear it too.</p><p>“I wasn’t about to.” His eyes narrow even further. “However, I will ask - what the <em>hell</em> were you thinking?”</p><p><em>I wasn’t</em>, she nearly replies. “I simply lost my footing for a second. That’s all.”</p><p>“You’re Mipha, Champion of the Zora, for Hylia’s sake. You don’t just lose your footing.”</p><p>Is he <em>angry</em> with her for <em>falling</em>? That feeling in the pit of her stomach returns, except this time instead of a pleasant warmth, cold tendrils creep around her insides. “I’m flattered you think so highly of me, Master Revali,” she says, coolly and graciously as she can manage, “but we all make mistakes sometimes.”</p><p>An answer that clearly isn’t satisfactory for him, given the stamp of his foot and the slow huff that escapes from his beak, but he says nothing and turns on his heel to walk away from her. Over his shoulder she sees the group, silent and watchful, nervously shuffle back into formation as he approaches them.</p><p>The cold feeling still sits in her stomach. She thinks she might’ve preferred it when he paid no attention to her at all.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Oh, my little flippered friend,” laughs Urbosa later, as they sit drinking in the sparkling twilight of East Reservoir Lake. Mipha graciously decides to let the questionable pet name slide, but when Urbosa says, “he was <em>worried</em> about you,” she starts to think the Gerudo woman might be making fun of her.</p><p>“I can’t imagine Revali being worried about anything except for his own feathers,” she says aloofly.</p><p>“Hmph. Deny it if you wish. He likes you, that much is obvious.”</p><p>Mipha doesn’t know what to do with this information. It was true that Revali had never been cruel towards her the way he could be with Link, but she had always assumed that he tolerated her at best. But if he actually genuinely, actively <em>liked</em> her - well, that was another thing entirely.</p><p>Her gaze drifts to where Revali is perched next to Daruk and Link by the water’s edge. He and Daruk seem to be discussing something animatedly, while Link nods along. She is pleased to see the men, so often at odds with each other, at least appearing to get along whilst they’re in her domain - providing that their passionate conversation doesn’t veer into an argument. A few moments of peace does not have Mipha ready to denounce their conflict as a mere facade just yet, but in some abstract imagined future where Link is her husband and Revali is still her friend, it would certainly be a lot more convenient for her if they weren’t constantly at each other’s throats.</p><p>She sighs and swirls her drink in its cup. Half of its contents is long gone, and she’s already on her second refill. Urbosa’s cup sits nearly untouched, the other woman choosing to sip water instead. She had struggled to hide her distaste for the bitter Zora brew: fleet-lotus seeds and fermented pomegranate wine, one of Mipha’s favourites. The stimulant quality of the fleet-lotus provides a heady buzz, while the fermented pomegranate injects a delicious warmth into her veins, trickling through to her fingertips and planting her feet firmly on the ground. She rolls her neck languidly, pushing back her shoulders before settling back further into her seat. The poised princess of the Zora is a conscious display that takes constant precision and effort to maintain. It’s nice to be able to take a moment to shrug it off, and why shouldn’t she? It’s only Urbosa watching, after all.</p><p>The effects of the wine are so pleasant and affirming she barely takes any notice when Revali slinks underneath the canopy and sits down next to her, feathered hand reaching for a cup. She watches through half-lidded eyes as he takes a sip and waits for his reaction.</p><p>He tries and fails quite spectacularly to hide his grimace, and Mipha can’t help but laugh. “An acquired taste,” he says diplomatically, clearing his throat before setting down his cup. She passes him some water, and he gives her a polite nod before gulping it down gratefully.</p><p>“No, it’s certainly not for everyone,” she agrees, “but it’s a Zora staple. We have it during every celebration. I personally happen to enjoy the bitter taste.”</p><p>“Still, a little sugar wouldn’t hurt,” mutters Revali. “So. Is tonight a celebration?”</p><p>“Of course. The work on Vah Ruta is complete, and we have the full backing of my father and his army,” she says, proud. “I think that can be considered cause for celebration.”</p><p>“Funny. I could’ve sworn that if we were celebrating anything, it would be you not hitting that water with the force of a hinox playing drums.”</p><p>Mipha’s eyes widen, incredulous. She is about to turn to Urbosa as if to say, <em>can you believe the nerve of him</em> - but Urbosa is no longer sat on the other side of her, instead having crept away at some point during the conversation to schmooze with Impa. <em>How convenient</em>, she thinks, <em>for a such a statuesque woman, she can certainly move quietly on those heels</em>.</p><p>She sighs in defeat, not keen on the idea of untangling this conundrum on her own, and certainly not with a belly full of wine. Still. With no one but the two of them around to hear, she has no incentive to be anything but blunt. “You seem awfully concerned about me all of a sudden, Master Revali.”</p><p>He visibly stiffens. “It was a long drop.”</p><p>“A long drop, from a waterfall. One that posed no particular danger to me. The water is my friend.”</p><p>“Are you sure it feels the same way about you?”</p><p>“Perhaps you should worry more about yourself,” she says, not unkindly. “The princess informed me of the incident at the Flight Range not too long ago.”</p><p>“Ah, of course she did,” Revali grits out through a smile that spells death. “Do you two spend a lot of time gossiping about me? Or does that honour go to Golden Boy over there?”</p><p>“You’re right that it would be an honour to have two princesses gossiping over you,” says Mipha, tapping her chin in mock-thought. “But, unfortunately, the answer is no. We have more pressing things to discuss at the moment.”</p><p>“Well, once Medoh is up in the air and the Calamity is dealt with, I expect you’ll be needing some more material,” he hums. “Let’s see. There’s the time I accidentally used salt instead of sugar in the nutcake I baked for the village choir fundraiser - that one’s a classic. Or perhaps you’d prefer to hear about the time my friends dared me to swallow a live salmon - ”</p><p>“You have friends?”</p><p>“A low blow, princess.”</p><p>Mipha laughs, a hearty tinkle. Then she notices it - a lightness in her chest, pulling her upwards, making her float like a balloon. Being able to banter freely like this is unworking the stiffness in her shoulders, the tightness of her jaw. She thinks she might even be having fun. “Rather impressive how you managed to mention your charity work in a conversation about your shortcomings.”</p><p>He huffs. “Yes, well, it’s inevitable when you carry out as many good deeds as I do.”</p><p>“Oh, of course,” she nods sagely. “But if I may say - it does sound like you need better friends.”</p><p>Revali snorts at this, casting his gaze derisively over to where Daruk and Link sit shoulder to shoulder, as much as a small Hylian and hulking Goron can sit shoulder to shoulder, their bodies shaking with far away laughter.</p><p>He shudders, braids swaying in a way that’s strangely hypnotising. “Like who? These clowns?”</p><p>Mipha shrugs as if to say, <em>why not</em>?</p><p>Revali sighs. “Daruk is a dolt - ”</p><p>“That’s not very kind.”</p><p>“When have you ever known me to be <em>kind</em>? Daruk <em>is </em>a dolt, as charming as he may be, and <em>Link - ”  </em>he spits the knight’s name out as if it tastes even worse than the wine, “ - he won’t even speak to me, and I’m just supposed to fall at his feet?”</p><p>“Maybe he won’t speak to you because you judged him before you even knew him,” Mipha says, too drunk to even attempt to stop what spills out of her mouth. “The Link I know is strong yet gentle, gallant and brave. You have no idea the kind of pressure he’s under. If you stopped to consider the feelings of anyone other than yourself for once, perhaps you’d understand this.”</p><p>Revali peers at her, waiting for her to catch her breath after her outburst. Then he says, “How long have you been in love with him?”</p><p>The feeling she experiences once processing these words is akin to falling down the waterfall all over again. “I beg your pardon?”</p><p>“Well, you said I should consider the feelings of those other than myself,” he says nonchalantly, “and your feelings for the Hylian knight are quite clear. So this is me showing an interest, if you wish to talk about it.”</p><p>Mipha gapes at him, mouth flapping open and shut like a fish. “That’s - not what I meant! And no, I don’t wish to talk about it, thank you!”</p><p>“Suit yourself.” Revali’s features are smug. “But your reaction is just confirmation that I’m right. Not that I require confirmation, of course.”</p><p>Oh, how Mipha dearly wishes she had her trident to hand so she could poke those piercing eyes straight out of his head, and stop him from perceiving anything else untoward about her. She sighs in resignation. He is right, of course. What would be the point in pretending otherwise?</p><p>“No one else knows,” she says quietly. “Not even Urbosa.”</p><p>“I hate to break it to you, princess, but she probably does know. She’s almost as observant as I am. As for the rest of these fools, well - let’s just say you’re not the best at hiding how you feel. I wouldn’t be surprised if even they could work it out.”</p><p>She manages to push down the urge to take a running dive into the shadowy depths of the East Reservoir and never surface again. “Even if that is the case, I’d be grateful if you didn’t speak of it to the others.” When he raises an inquisitive eyebrow at this, she continues on quickly: “It’s not that I’m <em>ashamed</em> of my love - it’s simply that I do not wish for it to cause any complications or friction, especially at a time it is so crucial that we work together. Which is what I fear might happen, were the princess to find out.”</p><p>A heavy silence settles between them for a moment, as Revali clearly weighs up the implications of what she’s just said. Mipha is cringing internally, regretting the words as soon as they have left her mouth. Why must she always be so crushingly <em>honest</em>? And with Revali of all people, who will probably use this information to torment her with until the ends of the earth?</p><p>His green eyes appraise her, expression frustratingly unreadable. The seconds tick by, each one more excruciating than the last. She has half a mind to grab him by the shoulders and shake him and <em>why won’t he just </em>say<em> something, we can never usually shut him up</em> -</p><p>“Are we friends?”</p><p>Mipha blinks at him. “What?”</p><p>“Are we friends, Mipha?” Revali’s tone is unusually patient. “I would consider us friends. I find your presence a great deal more tolerable than that of the rest of these halfwits, in any case.”</p><p>Mipha’s head has slowed its anxious spinning, but she still feels a small amount of trepidation at where he could possibly be going with this. “Is the bar for friendship really so low?”</p><p>He chuckles at this. “It’s a lot higher than you think. You haven’t answered my question.”</p><p>“Of course we’re friends,” she replies evenly, trying not to think too hard on why saying it out loud brings her so much unbridled joy.</p><p>He nods like he’s conducting a study that he already knows the answers to. “Then I’m sure you’d agree that as your friend, I have a duty to you to keep any secrets you may wish me to keep, as badly hidden as they may be, and vice versa.”</p><p>Mipha waits. She waits for him to break out into laughter, to sneer at her, to take off on his wings and tell Princess Zelda that Princess Mipha has a big stupid crush on her chosen knight. From what she’s witnessed, that’s how these things usually go when it comes to Revali.</p><p>But nothing like that happens. He simply continues to look at her with sharp, inquisitive eyes, his head cocked slightly to the side. She has a strange feeling that she might be going down a dangerous path.</p><p>She says: “You called the Princess of Hyrule a fool and a halfwit.”</p><p>He rolls his eyes. “And her chosen knight, her royal advisor and the blessed Goron Hero. What of it? Don’t tell me you’re going to run and tattle on those little webbed feet of yours.”</p><p>Mipha smiles and shakes her head slowly, reaching for the cup she’d placed out of the way when they’d first gotten into it. “Your secret is safe with me,” she whispers, and downs the rest of her wine.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. hebra, part one</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Cracks begin to form; or have they always been there?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Just a heads up: this chapter has some brief descriptions of animal butchery.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After <em>that </em>discussion, which Mipha would rather soon forget, she and Revali begin to spend more time in each other’s orbit. At formal events and strategy meetings, they slowly pull towards each other, moving in tandem like the moon and the tides. They stand shoulder to shoulder, look to each other when it’s their cue to laugh, nudge and elbow each other playfully and not-so-playfully. Revali snipes at Link and Mipha scolds him immediately; the others stare at her like she’s grown a second head the first time she does it, the Zora princess usually not being one to raise her voice, but they learn not to question it as they come to realise that Mipha is the only one that can put a swift end to his once-endless rambling.</p><p>Their bond is one formed out of necessity: their situation is bleak, Zelda’s not getting any further with awakening her power, and it looks like for the foreseeable future their life will consist of training and travelling and fighting and sleepless nights anxiously spent waiting for the sky to crack and chaos to rain down upon them. Mipha knows, deep down, they have nothing in common except the same predicament and a desire to protect and save their people - qualities necessary and admirable in champions - but hardly tangible idiosyncrasies when huddled around a campfire on the first night of an eight day long trip into the Hebra mountains.</p><p>Still, it is nice to have company while waiting for the end of the world. Mipha feels terrible for it, but she finds the thought of Revali, overly confident and boisterous Revali, going through the same inner turmoil that she is strangely comforting. Daruk and Urbosa are unnervingly secure, unbreakable; Mipha is not a pessimist, per se, but for once she wants someone to affirm that she is right to fear the worst, that there is a very real chance she may never see her father and brother again. She is eighty years old, old enough to have seen firsthand that soldiers do not always make it home from war. Now it is her turn to gamble her life. She prays that she will be one of the lucky ones, for Sidon’s sake, if nothing else.</p><p>The chill coming off the mountains feels stronger tonight. Mipha moves to huddle closer to the fire, but it’s not much use without the appropriate clothing. The air gets cold in Lanayru, especially at night, but it lacks the merciless bite found in the winds of Hebra. Revali had warned her when they’d been dispatched on their mission to beat back the hordes of monsters closing in on the Rito settlement, but she hadn’t listened. Her lack of experience with terrains outside of her homeland has made her complacent, and now she is kicking herself for it.</p><p>“You look cold, princess,” calls Revali, a sway in his step as he makes his way over to her, only a hint of smug satisfaction in his voice.</p><p>“I’m quite alright, thank you,” she replies, trying and failing miserably to stop her body from visibly shaking as he perches on the log next to her. He looks quite content, of course, but he ruffles his wings in an exaggerated shiver in what she supposes could be either a sympathetic or mocking gesture. It is often impossible to tell with him.</p><p>“It’s a curious thing,” he says. “You featherless creatures are all just that - <em>featherless</em> - and yet you all deal with the extreme temperatures of our region differently. For example, Daruk and Urbosa appear to be getting by just fine in those little rags they call clothes, whereas you look like the frozen salmon I had for breakfast this morning.”</p><p>“Then I suppose they must have thicker skin than I,” Mipha says, hoping the mightiest glare she can muster will make up for the wretched quiver in her voice.</p><p>Revali smirks, unaffected by the animosity, looking at her in a way that could almost be considered fond. She puts it down to the warmth of the firelight reflecting in his eyes, the thought that he could actually be finding petty amusement in her suffering right now almost too irritating to bear.</p><p>He breaks their short staring contest to turn and retrieve a small patch of cloth from his pack, then takes his bow from his back and sets to polishing it. It’s a hefty thing, carved lovingly from native cedar, thick and solid and probably almost as tall as she is. Mipha has often marveled privately at its might, and the ease with which Revali wields it. She has seen how he twirls it above his head like it weighs no more than a simple twig, and imagines fleetingly how he could probably do the same with her, if he wanted to.</p><p>“I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but there is actually a tailor in Rito Village who makes clothes specifically designed for outsiders in these sorts of conditions,” Revali says conversationally, digging into a crevice of the bow with the cloth. Mipha rolls her eyes, pulling her arms tighter across her torso. She can’t possibly imagine where this is going. “Perhaps the Calamity has infiltrated my memory, but for some reason I seem to remember advising you to pick up some warm clothes before we left. Strange, isn’t it?”</p><p>She sighs. “I went to the shop, but they had nothing that would fit me, and I didn’t want to inconvenience them by having them make something for me on such short notice.”</p><p>“Ah, yes, because it’s so much more convenient having you sat here shivering all night like a sleep deprived jellyfish.”</p><p>Mipha is disappointed to find that she has no energy to do anything but tut at him, despite being fully aware by now that expressing disapproval has absolutely no effect on his behaviour whatsoever. Revali looks back at her with derision for a few seconds, before setting down the bow and cloth. He has almost undone all the ties on the thick doublet he’s wearing before it hits her what he’s doing.</p><p>“Oh, Revali, no,” she pleads genuinely, but he’s already shrugging it off and pulling the scarf from around his neck.</p><p>“Take them,” he commands. “You need them far more than I do.”</p><p>“But they’re <em>yours </em>- ”</p><p>“Mipha,” he says, voice dropping dangerously low. She hesitates for a moment more, before reaching to take the clothing with grateful fingers. If there is one thing she has learnt from spending so much time with Revali, it is that resisting such an offer will only result in a back and forth that will last until the Calamity has been and left.</p><p>The doublet is unsurprisingly far too big for her, but it hardly matters when the rich velvet feels so good against her skin and the thick feather padding envelopes her like a luxuriously soft and heavy blanket. She loops the scarf around her neck, making sure to be extra careful with the delicate fabric, very much aware of its status as one of Revali’s most treasured possessions. It smells faintly of the pine tar he uses to preen with - earthy, dark, but oddly pleasant. Mipha pulls the doublet tighter around her body, and gently twists her hands into the scarf, and when she looks up he is smiling at her, and the flames are flickering between them, and his smile is genuine and warm.</p><p>After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Link returns from his hunt, panting, blood smeared on his cheek and hands, all but collapsing as soon as he reaches camp. In front of them is the body of one of the biggest bucks Mipha has ever seen. Revali makes a noise that could be interpreted as approval. “Didn’t go down without a fight, huh?”</p><p>Link looks at him and grunts, still trying to catch his breath.</p><p>Daruk and Urbosa abandon their playful sparring match to collect more logs for the fire. Link eyes them as they leave, then turns back to Revali and Mipha. “Why do I have to do all the hard work while you sit here playing house?”</p><p>“Because you’re The Knight Who Seals The Darkness, of course,” Revali says in the sing-song way everyone knows drives Link mad. “Is ‘hard work’ not in the job description?”</p><p>“Is ‘asshole’ in the Rito warrior job description?”</p><p>“Daruk did offer to go with you,” Mipha interjects quickly, although she is afraid the conversation was doomed as soon as it began.</p><p>Link shoots her a tight smile. “Daruk makes too much noise.”</p><p>“Haven’t you heard, Mipha?” says Revali. “None of us can match up to his <em>prowess</em>! We’re simply not good enough for him.”</p><p>Link pulls his dagger from its sheath with a considerable amount of force. Revali looks like he wants to say more, but shuts his beak for the time being. After a beat, the knight sets to work skinning the carcass, humming a little louder than what can be considered natural.</p><p>Mipha <em>hates</em> this. Normally she would prefer to stay out of their squabbles, but she and Revali were sharing such a pleasant moment before that she finds herself angry that such a petty conflict has squeezed the quiet joy from the evening like an unrelenting snake.</p><p>“Thank you for the food, Link,” she says quietly, because it’s all she can find within herself to say. “I’m sure Revali appreciates it too, even if he may not act like it.”</p><p>Revali glowers at her, clearly disapproving of her speaking for him, but keeps quiet. Link doesn’t look up, concentrating intensely on peeling the deer’s hide from its backbone in one piece. Once finished, he rinses his hands with a water skin and climbs to his feet. “I’ll be back soon,” he mutters, stalking away into the line of trees.</p><p>“The Knight Who Digs The Latrines,” says Revali, and Mipha lets out a groan that can probably be heard all the way back in Zora’s Domain.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Mipha has never been so grateful to have Daruk and Urbosa as a buffer, their return serving to considerably lighten the mood at the camp. With the fire roaring and venison skewers and mulled cider passed around, she would almost be able to forget Revali and Link’s earlier antagonism of each other, if not for the residual tension that quietly simmers like oil on hot coals. She can’t tell if Daruk and Urbosa haven’t noticed the awkwardness, or if they have and are purposefully trying to be as perky as possible. Either way, she’s glad when Daruk enthusiastically compliments Link’s hunting and cooking skills, clapping him on the back so hard the knight almost chokes on his mouthful. They break out into easy laughter, and Mipha’s heart sings.</p><p>Later, when their skewers have been picked bare and their mugs are empty, they lounge in front of the dying fire with the apathetic drowsiness of those with full stomachs and nothing to lose. Urbosa lies next to Mipha, propped up on one elbow. The princess is gently carding her claws through Urbosa’s hair, marveling at how the fibers feel like silk beneath her fingertips. The Gerudo chief is usually not too fond of being touched, but she makes an exception for Mipha when she realises how utterly fascinated the Zora is by the whole concept.</p><p>Mipha traces her claws over Urbosa’s crown, and the woman shivers underneath her touch. She supposes it must feel quite pleasant; a shame she cannot experience it herself. The thought of testing whether it would have the same effect on Revali’s feathers enters her mind, but she hurries to shake it away. “I imagine it must be rather hard to care for,” she murmurs to Urbosa.</p><p>“Oh, it’s an absolute nightmare,” Urbosa says, her voice a soft drawl. “But it looks good and helps keeps me warm on those cold desert nights, so I can’t complain too much.”</p><p>“I hadn’t considered how hair might provide a similar function to feathers,” Mipha replies before she can stop herself.</p><p>Urbosa pulls herself up, and Mipha lets her hands fall into her lap. The chief looks amused. “I do believe that is the sole function of feathers, although with the amount of preening Revali does he ought to look good, too. In fact I often wonder why the Rito bother wearing clothes at all.” Mipha’s face goes scarlet, and Urbosa continues: “I suppose that’s why you’re wearing his scarf and doublet?”</p><p>“I was cold, and he insisted,” mutters Mipha.</p><p>Urbosa appraises her carefully, and Mipha feels like she’s being laid out for dissection.</p><p>“I knew there was a heart of gold underneath that hideous attitude,” Urbosa says finally, and Mipha finds she can neither confirm nor deny.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>It’s far past the time they were supposed to retire for the night, but going over plans to ambush a rabid horde of monsters in the morning has them jittery and sleepless, the soothing buzz of the evening’s meal and drinking worn off, replaced by the cold sweats of nervous anticipation. Mipha is back to shivering, despite still wearing the doublet and scarf.</p><p>“Let’s sing a song,” says Urbosa.</p><p>Revali and Link groan simultaneously. Daruk, however, seems to perk up at the idea. “Oh, come on, guys. What’s a song we all know?”</p><p>“<em>The Fishwife of Lurelin</em>?” Revali suggests, sounding like he’s trying to hide a snicker.</p><p>“Aren’t all wives in Lurelin technically fishwives?” ponders Daruk, stroking his chin. Revali squints at him from where he lies upside down in his hammock.</p><p>“Not all, actually,” Link supplies. “There are fishhusbands, too.”</p><p>“How can you use such offensive language in front of Princess Mipha?” Urbosa scolds, and Mipha blinks at her in confusion before realising that there is probably no such thing as a fishwife, or indeed fish at all in the desert.</p><p>“If you don’t want offensive language, I’d steer clear of <em>Fishwife,”</em> says Link.</p><p>“Must you always ruin everything?” hisses Revali, and Link shrugs at him.</p><p>“How about <em>Hyrule, Have Mercy</em>?” Mipha pipes up. “We must all know that one.”</p><p>“Because that’s not depressing at all,” Revali deadpans.</p><p>“But you <em>do</em> know it.”</p><p>“<em>Does</em> everyone know it?” Urbosa asks. The murmur she receives in reply in unenthusiastic, but affirmative. The hymn is probably the only one sung all across Hyrule, dating back thousands of years, to before when the champions of old piloted the divine beasts for the first time. It is so deeply ingrained in cultural memory it would be difficult for one not to know the words.</p><p>“Then it’s settled,” declares Urbosa. “I’ll go first, since it was my idea, and we’ll each sing our verses as we go around the circle. We can use my shield as a drum; it’s stronger than dragonbone, you won’t damage it. Ready?”</p><p>She raps out a crude beat upon the shield with her knuckles, and begins to sing. It’s surprisingly nasal, but strong, and not unpleasant.</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>I am a Gerudo warrior</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Noble as my blade</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Beneath my beauty lies </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The venom of a snake</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The desert has given me </em>
</p><p>
  <em>All the blessings of a mother</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I know that she will never </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Be ruled by another</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hyrule, have mercy on me</em>
</p><p> </p><p>She passes the shield to Daruk. His voice is like thunder rolling beneath the clouds.</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>I am a Goron hero</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sturdy as the mountain</em>
</p><p>
  <em>My voice calls out </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Through all the racket and the din</em>
  <em><br/>
</em>
</p><p>
  <em>My skin cracks </em>
</p><p>
  <em>And out pours lava as my blood</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I fight my way </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Through all the sorrow and the mud</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hyrule, have mercy on me</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Link’s voice is softer and more musical than the other two, and when he takes the shield he coaxes a steady, tinkling rhythm out of it, like rain falling upon a timber roof.</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>I am a Hylian soldier</em>
</p><p>
  <em>My heart beats for my land</em>
</p><p>
  <em>My sword was made to be wielded </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Only by my hand</em>
  <em><br/>
</em>
</p><p>
  <em>My ears were made to hear </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The voice of the Goddess</em>
</p><p>
  <em>She tells me to dispatch </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The wicked and the godless</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hyrule, have mercy on me</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Revali still does not look convinced, but takes the shield from Link. After a split second’s consideration, he hands his bow to Mipha, and she understands what he wants her to do.</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>I am a Rito archer</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The sky calls my name</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Every morning I wake </em>
</p><p>
  <em>To the heat of the flame<br/>
<br/>
That burns inside my soul </em>
</p><p>
  <em>So disciplined</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Every night I fall asleep </em>
</p><p>
  <em>To the screaming of the wind</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hyrule, have mercy on me</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Finally it is Mipha’s turn, but she is stunned. She did not expect Revali to sound like <em>that</em>. Why would anyone keep something so beautiful hidden for so long? It makes no sense.</p><p>She knows her own voice cannot compare, but it is sweet and lilting enough that she can get away with it. She hands her trident to Revali, and one corner of his mouth turns up slowly as she begins to sing.</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>I am a Zora healer</em>
</p><p>
  <em>My grace is given unto you</em>
</p><p>
  <em>My domain is vast</em>
</p><p>
  <em>From rivers to seas of blue</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The battle will end </em>
</p><p>
  <em>And I shall look upon the wounded</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And I shall feel my heart harden </em>
</p><p>
  <em>With every life concluded</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hyrule, have mercy on me</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>The champions exchange few words after the song is finished. The mood is pensive. The air is thick with things unsaid.</p><p>Eventually, the fire dies, and Mipha watches as one by one they fall asleep. First Link, then Daruk, then Urbosa, and then it is only her and Revali left awake. He lies still in his hammock, save for the steady rise and fall of his chest. His head is turned away from her, but even cloaked in darkness she can see the tension in his shoulders.</p><p>“Are you scared?” she whispers.</p><p>He doesn’t reply for so long she thinks he may have actually fallen asleep after all. She is on the edge of slumber herself when he finally murmurs, “Of course I’m scared, Mipha.”</p><p>The smoldering embers of the fire drift up into the air, the smell of smoke the only thing tethering her to this reality. Night turns to early morning before she can slip under again, hands still clutching the Great Eagle Bow.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p>
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